


Sunday

by SherlockianGirl14



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianGirl14/pseuds/SherlockianGirl14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A normal Sunday morning in the Moran-Moariarty household</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday

It was crazy living with London's most infamous criminal mastermind. Jesus, it was insane.  
You'd have thought it'd be fucking terrifying. But no. Jim was kinda... Cute. Almost. In an 'I'd kill you in your sleep but watch a movie marathon with me' kind of way. Although then, being his gunman, it was arguable that Seb was just as much of a psycho.  
It was dangerous. He liked it.  
Nobody would guess that Jim liked his tea with one sugar and a biscuit, wouldn't get out of bed without in the morning. Nobody would know that he loved romcoms and was weirdly obsessed with online shopping.  
Nobody would guess that sometimes he brought home flowers, of all things. That he was a soppy bastard outside of 'work'. He wouldn't go to sleep on a fight- although that was probably wise, since both could easily kill the other.  
Sebastian grinned as he heard feet padding through the halls of their apartment. It was Sunday and Jim would never go without his fry-up. The mastermind's timing was effortlessly precise, as always, Seb noticed as the toast popped up. He turned slighting, but not before twisting the knob on the stove to off (after several months -close to a year, crazy as it sounded- of cooking Sunday fry-ups, Seb was pretty well-times himself). An arm snaked it's way around him.  
"Morning, tiger," Jim yawned, and Seb noted the crunching in his ear as the last of the biscuit. Normally, he'd be annoyed by something like that- just like Jim, he had a temper on him- but on his boyfriend it was a strangely familiar sound.  
"You're naked," he commented passively.  
"So?"  
"You're cold."  
"So sweet," Jim purred, and you could almost taste the sarcasm.  
"Not what you said last night," Seb grinned crudely.  
"Don't be a child, my love," Jim replied passively, pulling away to slump into a dining chair. Their apartment was pretty big- it would be, since they'd blackmailed (and later killed and replaced) their landlord, before going on to buy the place.  
"Put a dressing gown on, you're gonna put me off my food," Seb complained as he sat at the table.  
"'Not what you said last night'," Jim imitated, adjusting his Irish lilt just enough to be accurate and yet patronising.  
Seb just rolled his eyes as he served up.  
Nobody would guess how very... Domestic their relationship was.  
Nobody would guess that they wouldn't have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys.  
> I'm writing up people's prompts, so if you have anything for Sherlock, Supernatural or In The Flesh then drop them in the comments


End file.
